


I'm Not Hungry.... Let's Have Dinner

by jlillymoon



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Holiday Fic Exchange, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 07:48:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3010889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jlillymoon/pseuds/jlillymoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holiday Exchangelock fic for songonthewind</p><p>Prompt:</p><p>Molly brings Jim along to holiday dinner at Sherlock and John’s flat.</p><p>This is what ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Not Hungry.... Let's Have Dinner

**Author's Note:**

  * For [songonthewind](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=songonthewind).



> Not beta-ed. Please excuse the mistakes!  
> Hope you enjoy

Prompt:  
Molly brings Jim along to Holiday dinner at John and Sherlock’s flat.

 

Molly pressed her gloved finger against the doorbell for 221B Baker Street and stood back. She knew that they were running a few minutes late, but she couldn’t help it. Jim was late getting home from his office and she was sure that it wasn’t his fault this time. He wrapped his arm around her waist in an attempt to calm her obvious nerves some. She had been anxious for days, worried about the three most important men in her life all sitting down to a friendly dinner for the holidays.   
Molly shifted the bag in her hands that contained the bottle of wine that she had stopped to get on her way home from work the night before. The black door opened and John smiled at Molly and Jim as they stood on the pavers below him.

“Hello.” He said. He stood back so that they could pass by him and into the front hall of the flat that he shared with Sherlock. “It’s nice to see you both again.” He gave Molly a small peck on the cheek and patted Jim’s shoulder once. Jim smiled at John and they followed Molly up into the flat that covered the second floor.

“Thanks for having me.” Jim said in a whisper to John. “I’ll try not to be too…”

“Don’t worry about it, mate.” John said with a stiff laugh. “We have to try for Molly.”

Jim nodded at John and followed the compact doctor up to the sitting room.

Molly was removing her coat and chatting with Sherlock when John and Jim reached the main room of the flat. Jim removed his coat and Sherlock turned to take in the visitors in his flat. Jim hadn’t set foot in there since he was on trial for stealing the Crown Jewels. 

“James.” Sherlock said.

“Sherlock.” Jim answered.

“Okay, now that we are all present and accounted for, how about a drink?” John asked. “I know I could use one.” he added under his breath. 

Molly thrust the bottle of wine she brought with them into John’s hands and settled herself on the sofa.

“Anything is good with me,” she called out. 

John nodded and Sherlock shook his head. 

“Jim?”

“Anything.” he answered, settling next to Molly.

“Why are you nervous?” Sherlock asked Jim as he stood watching the man that was once his adversary.

“I’m not nervous.” Jim said in his sing song voice. “It’s just that… well…”

“Sherlock.” Molly warned.

“I promise, Molly, I’m not goading him.” Sherlock scoffed. “I’m just curious.”

“Sherlock, I’m not nervous.” Jim restated, his voice more sure than previous. “I’m just a little on edge. This is the first we have been in the same room in... a while. And the last time we really didn’t have enough time to… talk.”

“Jim’s not the same man he was before.” Molly expressed. “Things are different now.”

“Yes.” Sherlock answered. “Quite.”

“It’s the truth Sherlock. There is not one person in this room that is the same person they were five years ago.” Jim agreed. 

John handed Molly and Jim each a glass of wine and returned to to the kitchen to get his own.

“Jim’s right, Sherlock.” John said as he re-entered the sitting room and sat down in his chair. “Things are different.”

“I’m not entirely sure I agree.” Sherlock snorted as he flopped into his chair.

“Would you like for me to tell you what is different?” Molly tried. 

Sherlock waved his hand at her and she smiled. She was one of the few people in the world that understood Sherlock speak. 

“When Jim was Jim from IT, he was play acting. Even James was different. There was something creepy about him. Don’t get me wrong, Jim is as smart as he ever was. But there is something about him now… I can’t quite find the right words to do it justice. But that night in the warehouse, I knew he had changed.”

“We’ve never really talked about that night before, Mols.” John interrupted.

“No, you are right. We never really have.” Molly said before taking a big drink of her wine. “I’m game if you boys are.”

“I have nothing to hide.” Jim answered immediately. He took Molly’s hand in his own and squeezed.

“I have questions that I would love to have answered. But I don’t know that it’s the best conversation to have over a holiday dinner.” John threw back out to the room.

“Holiday.” Sherlock snorted.

“John’s right.” Jim offered. “The four of us are here, mainly for the sole purpose to ensure that we can behave like adults and all. But I’m not sure that we can ever be the type of couples that have dinner together regularly. If nothing else we need to clear the air. And if talking about that night is what we need to do, then so be it. I’m all for it if the rest of you are.”

John listened to the speech and nodded his head. Molly rubbed her thumb across the top of Jim’s hand.

“It was a hard night.” Molly began. “I still have the occasional nightmare about it. So, yes, I think it’s only right we get it all out in the open. It’s been almost a year at any rate.”

“Sherlock?” John questioned. He raised his eyebrows at this partner and Sherlock gave a small smirk. John nodded and took a deep breath. “Alright then. Maybe we should each tell our own version of the story and put the pieces together on our own. Who would like to start?”

Silence fell over the room and they shifted in their places. No one really wanted to start. John cleared his throat and sipped his wine. He waited a beat before setting his wine down on the table. “I guess I’ll go first then.” John felt the collective sigh of relief from his three companions and decided that since he was going to tell his version of the events, he was going to set the ground rules.

John settled back into his chair a bit and crossed his legs. “I think that we should all agree that there is a basic story to all this and that we all agree to that understanding. This way we don’t repeat ourselves. I think that with a few exceptions we should pick up with the events at the airfield. Agreed?” Three sets of head nodded. “Also, I think that unless it has to do with the facts of the story, we don’t interrupt each other. But we can ask questions.”

“Really, John.” Sherlock drawled.

“It’s you I’m talking to, Sherlock. “John warned. “I love you, but you never let anyone tell a story without interrupting.”

“I wouldn’t have to interrupt so often if you just stuck to the facts instead of romanizing you stories…” Sherlock fell off his statement with the withering look that John gave him. 

Molly gave a nervous giggle. “People quite like John’s writing. And you have to admit, Sherlock, that without that blog you wouldn’t have gotten half of the business or the cases you have over the years.” Molly admonished.

“Ta very much Molly. It’s good to have friends.” John chuckled. 

Sherlock crossed his arms and legs and pouted.

“I agree with Sherlock. More facts and less pedantic prose.” Jim said softly. 

Sherlock shot Jim a glare and he shrank into the sofa a bit.

“Says the man who hijacked a cab tv system to read Sherlock a fairy tale.” John muttered. 

Jim tilted his head in defeat and sipped quietly at his wine. 

“Shall we all just concede our faults and past mistakes?” Molly asked meekly.

“Yes, rather.” Sherlock said, trying to regain a bit of his superior attitude after being cut down by both his lover and his friend.

John twisted his lips and took a deep breath. “The day on the tarmac was emotional. I was facing a life without my best friend. My wife was about to give birth and lo and behold as if a miracle occurred, Jim’s face is blasted across every television screen in England. It was frightening. Mary seemed off, but now looking back I should have seen through the act and noticed the nerves that were plaguing her at that moment. She wasn’t upset about Sherlock’s leaving or the video, she was sure that Mycroft was going to smell the rat and she was going to gaol for a long time. But, Sherlock and I went with Mycroft to figure out what was going on and Mary was sent home. The wife that I thought had left her life of crime was really on her way to met up with her partner and begin phase two of their “Get Sherlock Back” plan. We were none the wiser at that point. It wasn’t until I arrived home after being locked into Mycroft’s secret bunker for hours poring over very little information that I began to feel unease. I fell asleep quickly. Mary was in the bed and I assumed she was sleeping too. To be honest, that was the last time I saw her until she was sitting in the hospital two days later.”

“John, I know this is painful, but was she really pregnant?” Molly asked.

“No. She never was. Our relationship at that point was so… tenuous, I hadn’t seen her naked in months.”

“No sex?” Jim asked. Molly and Sherlock’s gazed bore into him. “What?” Jim shrugged. “I knew Mary, remember? She didn’t seem that type.”

“No sex.” John affirmed. “I was so angry still and I was planning on just existing in my wedding vows until the time that I couldn’t stand it anymore or she walked away. Which ever came first.” John took a moment to swallow down the ball of emotions forming in his throat with a mouthful of wine. “But, two days later, I saw her at the hospital. I was spending so much time with Sherlock and Mycroft I hadn’t laid eyes on her. We texted a few times, but Sherlock and I were so busy running down leads, leads that got us no where, that I wasn’t aware of what was going on with my own wife. I assumed she was home and working. It never dawned on me that she wasn’t. But two days later we were at the hospital. It was stupid, really, but I wanted to make sure that Sherlock’s arm wasn’t broken. And there was my wife. She came running. I was worried about the baby. She said she was touring the maternity ward, that it had slipped my mind. I bought it. I was so tired at that point I didn’t know which end was up.”

“What about Sherlock’s arm? I think I missed this.” Molly asked.

“Sherlock fell off of a fire escape. He banged it good, and I wasn’t sure it wasn’t broken because of the swelling. He ran around the rest of the case high on painkillers.”

“Which is why I solved it. My mind was clearer than it had been in years.” Sherlock interjected. 

“Yes, yes.” John tutted. “You are a genius.” 

“At what point did you realize that Mary wasn’t pregnant?” Jim asked.

“When I saw her next. The bump was gone. She was all kitted out in black. Proper mercenary stuff.” John said. He held up his hand and went to check on dinner that was warming in the oven. He refilled the wine glasses and sat down with his own.

“I figured later that Mary was really at hospital to get you, Mol. Sherlock and I went back to Mycroft’s at that point and worked some more. That’s when we were still, well Sherlock and I were convinced that it was Jim at the center of all this. Mycroft then let us in on the secret he was keeping. And the whole investigation shifted. We found out about Moran, chased him to the warehouse where he was hiding. And after the gun battle, that left him with more than his fair share of holes, it was over. But there was one thing that I never understood.” John finished.

“What was that?” Molly asked, taking the bait. 

“Well, we met up with Moran and he was a sniper. A good one. I remember hearing about his reputation in the service. And he never got off one clean shot.” John said, turning his gaze at Jim.

“He was a sniper, true. My best one. But it was the drugs and the booze that got to him. And I’m surprised at you John. I would have expected you to be more observant. I mean Sherlock’s fall wasn’t exactly all that well hidden from everyone. When I was in Mycroft’s… care…. I asked to see the CCTV footage. Permission was granted. I had assigned Moran to shoot John. I know from his vantage point he could see everything. I think he wanted to see Sherlock alive so that he and Mary could have their own little end game. And Sherlock needed to deal with the Magnussen problem for themselves. But Sherlock’s getting exiled almost ruined their plan.” Jim offered.

Sherlock snorted and John turned his gaze to his lover. “What?” John asked.

“Moran and Mary. It’s laughable. But they fooled us all.” Sherlock said. “It was a good job, that.”

“It was. But thinking back over the events of the last few years, I have to admit that I should have seen it coming. I should have seen the signs. I was so focused on our little games, Sherlock, that I didn’t see my two best employees were having an affair. That they were plotting against me. If I hadn’t killed myself that day, I doubt I would be alive today. They would have thrown me to the wolves or killed me themselves.” Jim said.

“So, you saw Mary next, when?” Molly asked John, trying to piece together the story in her own head.

“When we arrived at the house where she had you. Mycroft called and told us to get there as soon as possible. I didn’t know that Mary had you. I just didn’t know.” John uttered. His tone was sad and Molly gave him a warm smile.

“You were occupied. I think I was a momentary choice at that point.” Molly offered. “Don’t feel bad about it.”

“From what I was able to learn,” Jim said, “was that originally Mary was supposed to be the hostage and then Mycroft told you both the truth. You turned your attention to Moran and found him fast. He was a good shot but sloppy about covering his trails at the end. He always was. I did that for him after he was out of the service. But you were telling us about Mary.”

“I was.” John cleared his throat before he took another drink of his wine. “I walked into the house and I saw Molly right away. Other than the burn marks on her wrists and ankles from the zip ties and the bloody lip, I knew that physically she was alright. The next person I saw was you Jim. You were talking to Mycroft. It took me a minute to tamp down the instant reaction I had to seeing you. I wanted to kill you right then and there. It was a left over reaction from all the other shite. And there you were. It made my gut twist. But then you turned towards me. I don’t know if you felt me or Sherlock in the room, but you turned. And I could see that you were different. Softer some how. And you were holding your arm. I knew you were injured.”

“Feckin wife of yours shot me.” Jim said with a smile. 

“I have a strong feeling that you and I are the only two people in the world that can say that they were shot by her and survived.” Sherlock chuckled. Jim cracked a smile and shook his head. 

“And I felt Sherlock in the room. No offense John, but Sherlock… there is something there. Like he’s a sun and we are all attracted to his shine.”

“I understand.” John said. Molly nodded in mute agreement. “But there was my wife. Laying in the heap on the ground. Trussed up like a Christmas goose and kitted out in black. No baby belly. Her eyes had changed. They were hard and cold. Her nose was broken and bloodied. Thanks for that by the way.” John said raising his glass at Molly. She smiled.

“Least I could do after she kidnapped me and pistol whipped my face.” Molly winced at the memory of the blow to the head.

“I only saw her once more after that. She asked to see me while Mycroft had her in custody. We talked and most of what was said is private, but I got to see the true nature of her. I got to see for the first time the person that Jim knew. That Sherlock suspected her to be. I found out she was playing me for a fool. Spending all her free time she could get with Moran. Plotting with him. Figuring out how to take over what was left of the criminal network. To kill me and Sherlock. I left the holding cell and did something that night I would have never done if it had ended differently. But… that’s a bit more personal.”

“That was the night…. oh.” Molly’s face changed. Her eyebrows rose and her little pink mouth formed a perfect o. “You and Sherlock.”

John blushed a crimson color that was not found in nature usually and Sherlock’s mouth formed a grin. It was all the confirmation that Molly needed. She knew that John returned to Baker Street the next day and that John and Sherlock settled back into their previous lives with only one bedroom now being used.

“Well… ummm. I had better check on dinner.” John said rising. He placed his hand on Sherlock’s shoulder for a second before disappearing into the kitchen to collect himself and to work on the meal a bit.

Molly settled back into the sofa again and took Jim’s hand in hers. “Sherlock, what was your impression when you saw Jim at the house?” she asked. She knew that it was tense for the first few minutes after John and Sherlock had arrived, but her own powers of observation were limited from that night. She had a concussion from the blow to the head that she bestowed upon Mary and she was limp from the crash after the adrenaline rush.

“I admit I knew he was there. Mycroft had texted me to tell me that you were missing. When all this began, I had Mycroft put a surveillance team on each person I care about. When you were seen going out of the hospital with Mary, there was no warning. No one expected that she was involved at that point It seemed natural given the friendship between John and you. But when you disappeared, Mycroft started searching for you. John and I were not able to be in two places at once and I knew that Mycroft was working on keeping you alive. He told me that he had found you and it was Mary who had you captive. He told me he was releasing Jim to assist with your return.”

“And you were okay with that?” Molly asked.

“No. I still didn’t trust that Jim wasn’t acting the part for Mycroft’s benefit. Especially having not seen it myself. But he made the call and explained that if anyone knew what Mary was capable of it was Jim. Mycroft figured that Jim could see what she was going to do and fix it without her killing you.” Sherlock explained. 

Jim nodded his head in agreement. “Mycroft said that I needed to help and I genuinely wanted to. I have to admit to you, love, that the majority of our time together when I was Jim from IT was an act. But underneath it all you were a lovely warm person. And you had done nothing wrong to Mary or Moran. I still held a bit of a grudge against the Glee thing and the deception at helping Sherlock, but you still didn’t deserve to die at the hand of that woman.” Jim explained.

“When I walked into the house and saw with my own eyes that you were safe, I knew that it was a good choice. But the moment I laid eyes on Jim…. I had the same visceral reaction that John had. I wanted to wrap my hands around his throat and throttle him. But at same time I didn’t. I had a bit of a confrontation in my head. I wanted to kill you, but at the same time I missed the game. I missed the chase. I was conflicted. But you turned towards me and John and I observed the change. Your eyes were different and the way you held your jaw and leaned slightly to the right. I could tell that your left ear has been damaged and your hearing is forty percent lessened. Your vision in the left eye is decreased more than it was previously. Your contact prescription has changed to accommodate it. Your speech pattern is slower and slightly slurred. The bullet you sent through your skull did more damage than you anticipated it doing. But there was also the change in your personality. I detected no lesser degree of intelligence on your part, however there was a… “ Sherlock found himself at a point where he was out of words. He waved his hand in the air and sipped his wine that he had finally retrieved for himself. “Never the less, I knew that the man standing in front of me was not James Moriarty. It was Jim. There was a difference.”

“I saw that in your face.” Jim murmured softly. “I saw the moment you realized that things were different as it crossed your eyes.”

“Yes.” Sherlock answered quietly.

“Sherlock,” Molly whispered. “You saw didn’t you.”

“Saw what?” John asked as he came back into the room.

“Nothing.” Jim sighed as he shook his head. Molly smiled and leaned in to kiss Jim on his cheek. “What were your thoughts on Mary that night?” He directed his question to Sherlock.

Sherlock planted his tongue in his cheek and looked over at John. John was settling back into his chair and raised his eyebrows at his boyfriend and flatmate. 

Sherlock shook his head with a minute movement and John understood that the conversation would resume later. 

“Mary.” Sherlock mused. “I was so stunned by whom she appeared to be. Even after Mycroft had uncovered so much more of her past than Magnussen had let on, I had no idea the depths to which she had deceived us all. And I failed to see her for what she really was. But hindsight and all that rot.”

“And what about now?” Molly asked. “What about Jim and I? I can’t imagine this is easy for you.”

“It is and it is not.” Sherlock said with a shrug. “I am happy that you are happy. And clearly sociopath is your type.” he jested with her. Molly returned his jab with a smile and a chuckle. “But I am concerned that Jim is not what he appears to be. That there is still the possibility he will attempt to kill us all.”

“Understandable.” John agreed. “However, I think we all have to admit that none of us are the same as we were. And there is a lot of animosity between us. And we have a long way to go before we are taking couples holiday together.”

“Two sociopaths, an adrenaline junkie and the mousy brunette girl who plays with dead people on holiday together. That would be the next poster for the travel agent.” Molly said with a laugh. Sherlock and Jim joined in her laughter. John chewed on his lip, feeling the sting of the jest hit home. There was nothing normal about any of their relationships.

“And what about you, Jim?” John asked. “What about that night changed you?”

“Molly.” Jim said. He looked at the woman sitting next to him with love in his eyes and she blushed pink at the compliment. “When I was playing with Molly’s affections before, it was just that. A game. I couldn’t see what was so special about her. She was pining after Sherlock like a love sick puppy and there was nothing I wanted more than to leave the little mousy thing that she was.”

“That’s a bit not good.” John interjected, gazing at Molly. She was smiling.

“No, John. He’s right. I was different back then.” Molly offered. She nudged Jim’s arm and urged him to go on.

“But when I walked into the room, neither Mary nor Molly knew that I was different. I was able to sham my way into the room as my old self. I played Mary, all the while watching Molly. I dropped my act long enough to let Molly know I was there to help her. But I noticed that something was different about her. There was a confidence that wasn’t there before. Her forehead was covered in blood from where she had hit Mary’s face. The space under her eyes was beginning to dark with bruises and I was intrigued to say the least. Mary’s attention faltered for a moment and I saw my opportunity. I neutralized her and that was that.” Jim explained.  
John nodded and took a large drink of his wine. “What about you? Mycroft just let you go?” John asked with a bit of venom in his voice.

Jim smiled and let his annoyance at the question die. Years ago he would have had John split in two for his petulant tone. “I served my time with Mycroft. Trust in the fact for every day he held me in captivity and for each and every moment I was recovering, it wasn’t easy. I gave up more that I ever intended to.” Jim replied. “However, I was allowed to retain 50% of my assets. It’s more than enough to live comfortably off of. I kept several homes and sold most of them. There is nothing to worry about there. Big brother still holds a tight lead.”

“I would have expected you to chafing under thumb by now.” Sherlock drawled.

“Surprisingly, so would have I.” Molly said. Jim smiled at her, a tender smile and he rubbed the back of his knuckles along her cheek.

“Once upon a time, I would have thought so too. But you changed that darling.” Jim purred. Sherlock made a noise in the back of his throat and John smirked at him. “Oh, grow up Sherlock.”

“Really, now. I would have figured the one other person in this world who would hate my brother as much as me is you. Yet, you don’t seemed bothered to still be under his thumb.” Sherlock answered.

“Yes. It would seem that it would be prudent thought. However, I find being on the other side isn’t so bad. I can look at Mycroft’s dilemmas and figure out the flaws in very little time. It’s almost like taking candy from a baby.” Jim said with a satisfied smirk. “I didn’t intend to take the offer that Mycroft presented me with. But the allure of freedom was too great.”

“What did he offer you?” Sherlock hissed.

John shot Sherlock a warning glare. Suddenly John noticed the changes in Sherlock’s form. His back was straighter and he seemed as if he was coiled tight. John shifted in his seat to further his caution. Sherlock settled back a fraction and John took it as a victory for the moment. The tension in the room was rapidly spiraling out of control.

“Sherlock, dear, you know I can not answer that. But be ensured that your darling brother will no longer be looking to you for matters of state.” Jim answered calmly. Molly noted the tension in Sherlock and searched John’s face for an answer. John gave her a small shrug and motioned with his head towards the kitchen.

Molly rose from the sofa and collected her and Jim’s glasses. Sherlock rose from his seat and went to brood in front of the window.

“What’s on?” Molly asked looking into the sitting room.

“I’m not sure.” John offered. He pulled the roast from the oven and began to plate food for each of them as Molly poured more wine.

“Is it some left over animosity from before or is it something more?”

“To be honest Molly I’m not sure. I can’t tell with Sherlock all the time. He’ll tell me when he’s ready. But I think when we are finished with dinner, it’s your turn to tell your story.” John said as he handed her a plate.

“Yes, I suppose it is.”

John and Molly passed around plates and there was a silence that fell over the room. Sherlock barely touched his food, pushing it around the plate. Molly and Jim ate in a companionable silence while John tucked into his plate. He had gone through all the trouble after all.

Molly set her plate aside after a while and took a long pull on her wine glass.

“I guess you all know what happened with myself and Mary. I mean I gave a rather detailed report of it to Mycroft and Greg.” she said after a bit. “But I think the story should continue with what happened after.”

“Yes, what did happen after.” Sherlock said. 

“Sherlock. Stop.” Molly warned. Sherlock pouted in his chair like a child. John smiled a bit at Molly and she gave him a smile back. She was one of the few people who could get Sherlock to bend to someone else’s will. “Stop acting like a child. Now, I went back to my flat, took a shower and went to bed. I slept for hours. When I finally got up, I found Jim sitting on the sofa in my sitting room. I nearly hit him with a lamp.” Jim smiled at the memory.

“I was worried about you. I wanted to make sure that you were okay.” he offered.

“Yes, love. It was a sweet gesture. Creepy as hell, but sweet none the less.” she said placating him. “After I calmed down and Jim made tea, we talked for a bit. He told me his story and I listened. I saw the change in him, I saw the way he acted, the tiny bits of remorse for some of what he did and more remorse for the circumstances that occurred from his actions. He left after some time, but only after I agreed to dinner later that week.”

Sherlock yawned with a pretend yawn that caused John to clear his throat. Sherlock rose and walked to the window again to watch the snow fall on the street outside. Molly continued.

“We saw each other a few times and then we kept finding reasons to keep seeing each other. And here we are months later.” Molly finished.

“ And you are just accepting about what he did in his past?” Sherlock scoffed. John drew in a deep breath and knew that he was finally getting out what was bothering him. John chewed on his lip as he turned to Molly. From the corner of his eye, he saw that Jim had sat up straighter and was glaring at Sherlock.

“No. Jim and I have spent hours talking about it. He understands that there are parts of his life that I do not accept and he has things about my life he would rather forget that I had involvement in.” 

“So, forget the past? You think it’s that easy?” Sherlock turned at Molly and his face was blank. John knew it was his defense mechanism and Molly knew the look well too.

“No, Sherlock it’s not. But that’s what you do when you love someone. You look past the sins and into the good. And there is good there.”

“Not everyone is what they seem.” John offered quietly. 

“And look at how well ignoring sins of the past did for you.” Sherlock snarled. He stomped out of the room and John heard the bedroom door slam shut behind him. John sighed and turned to his guests.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. We hit a nerve.” Jim offered.

John nodded his head and took the dishes into the kitchen. He returned a moment later with a bottle of scotch and three glasses. He sat on the floor in front of the low coffee table and Jim poured them each a measure. 

The threesome drained their glasses in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Jim put his glass down on the table.

“He’s upset because I am not the same as I was before. I think he’s disappointed that I am not able to give him a game, a challenge like I had before. And I have taken a spot in his brother’s life that he held. He thinks he’s being replaced. And my crimes were worse than his and I am not being exiled.” Jim explained.

“Yes. And he is worried for Molly.” John agreed. “He cares for you and he doesn’t want you to get hurt by Jim.”

“I know. I don’t know how to make him understand that I am capable of taking care of myself.” Molly said as she drained her glass. She sighed as she twirled the glass in her hand. “This isn’t going like I had hoped.”

“Nothing ever does with Sherlock.” John said. Molly smiled a small smile for a moment then it disappeared. 

“No, it never does.” she agreed. They fell into a silence again, their own eyes looking at anything but each other.

“I think we should go.” Molly offered.

“No.” John said quietly. He cleared his throat and his voice was stronger. “I think that we should continue our visit.”

“Are you sure?” Jim asked, his eyes flicking down the hall towards the bedroom that Sherlock had disappeared to.

“I am. Sherlock is having a strop. He’s still getting over the fact my wife played him like a violin, that his arch enemy found a new toy to play with, the woman who was smitten with him moved on, the one person he could match wits with is no longer interested in the intense mental sparing that they engaged in and his best friend is now his lover. And let’s not add on the whole missing time period while he was away.” John listed out. Molly felt a burning shame cross her face and Jim felt his eyes down cast at the floor.

“I never said that I didn’t want to match wits with him any longer.” Jim said.

“Is that… are you willing… Jim.” John stuttered.

“John, the end results of my little games with Sherlock… were… a bit not good. However, the game itself. The game was wonderful. True, I could challenge Mycroft to the same mental exercises that I could with Sherlock. However, Sherlock is much more fun.” Jim said, the last line delivered in that creepy sing song way he had adopted before.

“Jim, I think this is a conversation to be had at a later time.” Molly offered. “John is right. As much as Sherlock would love to have a go with you again, I think he’s got too much on his mind to ignore.” 

Jim nodded in understanding and reached for the bottle. John nodded in his direction and smiled a tight lipped smile.

“I hated you, you know.” John admitted. Jim nodded tightly and returned the little smile with one of his own. “I wanted to kill you myself. And up until the moment that I saw you with Molly, I was plotting ways to get to you and kill you. But don’t think for one single moment that I have forgotten any of the horrible things you have done. I’m trying, for Molly’s sake to be the bigger man here. To get over it. And I still hold a grudge against you kidnapping me and wrapping me in Symtex.” John said.

“That was good.” Jim cooed. “But I understand. I wanted to step on you like a bug back then. You were standing in my way of getting to Sherlock. But in the end I found you… useful to my purpose.”

“Really?” Molly scoffed. “This is it? I was expecting more from both of you.”

“Kitten?” Jim asked.

“I was expecting more explosion. But I guess that was never you two. That was more Jim and Sherlock.” Molly heaved herself off of the sofa and walked towards the window. She pulled back the curtain and looked out into the dark night. “I’m starting to think that the hope, the dream that the four of us could be friends is over. I never really took into consideration that there is just too much history between you three to make it work. It was silly really.”

“No, Molly. Not silly.” Sherlock said from the doorway. “It’s been less than a year for all this to settle between us. It’s hard to accept that Jim is different. And to forgive what he did to John and I.”

“I know and I’m sorry.” Molly said not turning to met Sherlock’s gaze. He moved across the room and wrapped his arms around her waist. She leaned into him.  
“Don’t be sorry. You are the one with the biggest heart in this room. You want everyone you touch to like each other. And I promise you that I will try to be tolerant of your relationship. I just hope you understand that it won’t always be easy.”

“Sherlock’s right.” Jim offered. Sherlock made a noise that could either be a disagreement or affirmation of Jim’s observation. “This isn’t going to be easy. I’ve had a bit more time to come to terms with what I did. I will never be sorry for it. I am not that person. But I do regret that the actions of my past have affected you. And your relationships. But I will try too.”

John watched as the tension that had been building in the room for sometime fall out and everything felt flat. John sipped at his tumbler of scotch and leaned back on his arm. He stretched his legs out in front of him and crossed his ankles. Jim settled into the sofa and watched his girlfriend and Sherlock just stand and lean against each other. He crossed his ankle over his knee and closed his eyes.

“Sherlock, may I ask something of you? Something selfish?” Jim broke the silence after a while.

“You may ask. It does not mean that I need to grant your request.”

Molly shifted and turned to wrap her arms around Sherlock’s neck. After a brief hug, he planted a kiss on her cheek and she placed the tips of her fingers on his. They smiled for a moment and she walked back over to the sofa where she settled in the crook of Jim’s arm and shoulder.

“Would you play something for us?”

“Excuse me?” Sherlock asked, shocked that this was Jim’s request.

“I only ever heard you play the once. And as much as I admire music it is one talent I do not posses. You are very good and I was hoping to hear you play again.” Jim asked.

Sherlock looked at John who shrugged from his location on the floor. Sherlock turned his eyes to Molly who was resting her head against Jim’s shoulder. She gave Sherlock a soft smile and closed her eyes.

“It would be lovely, if you would.” She said. Sherlock walked nearer to John and rested his hand on John’s head. His fingers wove into John’s grey blond hair and he stood still for a moment.

“To be honest, I haven’t played in some time.” Sherlock admitted. “I haven’t lifted the violin since…”

“My wedding.” John answered.

“Why?” Molly asked. Her hand flew to her mouth, as if she was creating a barrier for other words from escaping.

Sherlock didn’t say anything. He turned and picked up his prized violin and bow from it’s case. He sat down in his chair and rested the beautiful instrument on his lap. “The day that John got married, things were different for me. I started getting high again. I started a relationship with a woman. I even asked that woman to marry me. It was all for a case, but still, I was grasping at anything. Then I was shot. Shot by the one person I underestimated. I didn’t see her as important until it was too late. She was one of the last people I played my violin for. I’ve tried picking it up again, but there is just too much sorrow in it for me now. Too much betrayal.”

John stood up from the floor and came to sit on the arm of Sherlock’s chair, wrapping his arm around Sherlock’s shoulders. Sherlock leaned into John and rested his head against John’s ribs.

“You don’t ever have to play again if you don’t want to.” John said lovingly.

“But you don’t see. I want to play. I want to feel it sing under my fingers again. I’m just not ready.”

“Then don’t.” Jim said. “Don’t do it for me. Do it when you are ready and for you. Sherlock, I do carry regrets in my heart. Underestimating my emotional capability in the one thing that you and your brother seem to do in spades.”

Molly looked at Jim and marveled at his frankness. She laced her fingers into his and squeezed.

“John, Sherlock, I think we are going to call it a night.” Molly said. “It was….” Her words died in her throat.

“I’m sorry that the night did not turn out like you had planned.” John offered as he rose to say his goodbyes.  
“We’ll try again some time?” Molly asked.

“Yes. Coffee later in the week? I’m on the night shift after the holiday.” John suggested. He had been working at the hospital occasionally since returning to Baker Street.

“Yes. I’ll text you.” She said planting a kiss on his cheek which John returned. John turned and offered his hand to Jim.

“Jim.” he said simply. Nothing more. Jim took his hand and said nothing. He nodded at John and pulled on his coat. Molly kissed Sherlock on the cheek as he stared into the abyss in front of him. Jim watched Sherlock for a moment and decided that it was better not to say anything. Just to leave.

Moly started down the stairs and Jim stopped in the door frame. “For what it’s worth Sherlock, I’m glad we cleared the air some. I look forward to learning if we can be… well… Good night. Thank you for dinner.” Jim followed Molly down and out to the front stoop.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Molly climbed beneath the cool sheets and found Jim’s warmth immediately. She curled around him and he tucked her into his arms.

“Thank you for trying this evening.” she whispered. “It meant a lot to me.”

“I had no idea that his life is as fucked up as all that. It makes me feel sorry for him. And happy that he found John to help him.” Jim said as he kissed the top of her head.

“Yes. They are both wonderful for each other and as damaging as a hurricane.” Molly admitted. “But I think tonight will go a long way in helping him right himself again.”

“I look forward too it.” Jim replied sleepily.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
John reached out across the bed to find the other side cool and empty. Sherlock had come to bed with him, but it wasn’t his absence that woke him. He was far too used to finding the other side of the bed vacant in the middle of the night. He shifted to pull Sherlock’s pillow to his nose, inhaling his scent deeply. That’s when he realized that it was a noise that woke him. It was a sad noise, a deeply personal noise, but beautiful in it’s melancholy. John swung his legs out from the bed and pulled on his dressing gown as he padded with bare feet into the sitting room. Sherlock was standing in front of the window, his back to the room. His violin was raised high on his shoulder. He pulled the bow across the strings and finished his melody as John sat in his chair.

“That was beautiful.” John said as Sherlock put his instrument away.

“I’m sorry I woke you.” Sherlock said. John shifted to make room for Sherlock to cuddle in the chair with him.

“It’s fine.” John said. “Why did you decide to play now?”

“It was what Jim said before he left. It was time to finish clearing the air. To come to peace with my…”

“Yes.”

“I hope I can learn to put his past behind us. I want to stay part of Molly’s life. But I’m…”

“Afraid?” John offered.

“Yes.” Sherlock sighed after a moment. John pulled his lover into his arms and stroked his arm with his hand. Sherlock wrapped his arms around John and nuzzled his neck. “I want to trust that he’s different. I want to have Molly be happy. She deserves it. She matters… to… me.”

“To us, Sherlock.”

“Yes. To us. And I want to give her this as a gift. As a Christmas gift.”

“I think I know how to do just that.” John said as he kissed his boyfriend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Molly sat in the canteen at Bart’s waiting on John. John noticed her from the doorway, but she hadn’t seen him. She was happy and practically glowing with the emotion that suited her so well. He turned the image of his first meeting with Molly over in his head. That girl was gone and in her place was a stunning woman. And a lot of that change was owed to Jim Moriarty, in one way or another.

John pulled out the chair across from her and sat down. She smiled warmly at him.

“All right there?” she asked.

“Never better. You?”

“Right as rain. What are your plans for Christmas night?” She asked, taking a pull from her paper coffee cup.

“Nothing special. Just a little something.”

“Really, what’s that?” she asked, her head tilted in curiosity.

“Sherlock would like it very much if you and Jim would come to dinner and he’s been working on a new list of Christmas tunes.”

“He’s playing again?” Molly exclaimed.

“Yes. He wants to show you he’s trying. That’s why he wants you two to come back for dinner. You free?” John asked.

“Yes. Thank you John. I’ll have to check with Jim, but I think it will be fine.” Molly looked thoughtful for a moment. “Do you think it could be real? That my best friends and my boyfriend can put their past aside and …”

“We are trying. And Sherlock wants to give that to you. For Christmas. His promise to try.”

“That’s all I can ever ask. For him to try.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, while I don't ship Jim with anyone but Moran, this was challenging. I have this head canon where Jim, being the maths genius he is... calculated the right angle for the bullet to do the least amount of damage. That of course changed his personality. And he's softer after that... So. There it is. I loved the challenge of writing this and I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
